


Transformation

by StevetheIcecube



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blade Eaters, Blood, Child Abuse, Child Experimentation, Gen, Major Spoilers, Major Violence, Seriously this is really awful, Torna: The Golden Country DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StevetheIcecube/pseuds/StevetheIcecube
Summary: Indol was scary, loud, and full of the people who'd torn him away from his family. The only thing that could come next for Mikhail were the blade eater experiments, and there was no way for that to end well.





	Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you've been warned, this has Golden Country spoilers. As in spoilers from right at the end. For your own sake, don't read this if you haven't played the game - suffer the pain first hand instead ;)

Indol was scary. And loud. There were people everywhere. Soldiers. And he was alone and there were - there were those abominations. Like the man monster thing that Lora (where was she? Why hadn't they saved him? He just wanted to be with them again because when he'd been with them sometimes he'd been able to stop thinking about Milton oh Architect he missed Milton so much) had killed. They were everywhere. Unhinged and so dangerous and terrifying. He was so afraid.

He tried to be brave. That was- that was the last thing Milton had told him, when things started exploding all around them. He said 'be brave', and then he wrapped his arms around him and then-

It was cold here, in Indol. Everything was made of marble. He didn't get fed very much. His stomach and chest hurt all the time from the sheer fear and hunger and constant shivering. He wanted to go home.

It didn't take long before he was pulled out of the crowds. He knew people were being taken. There were whisperings of what it was for. Knives, they said. People screaming. Soldiers washing blood off the Praetorium floor every afternoon.

Blade eaters was the rumor flying around. They were turning people into those...those...things. And next it was his turn. Because he'd been picked out of the crowd; he didn't talk to anyone, he didn't have anyone here who cared about him. No one would miss him if he never came back. When he never came back.

They just pulled him out of the rations line in an evening. No one said anything. They watched as soldiers grabbed a handful of people and they didn't do anything. Why would they? They didn't have any reason to care about him. Most people never even bothered to try.

The Sanctum was even colder than the refugee camp. There were fewer people here, and no one was smiling. The rare stranger who might afford him a warm glance wasn't going to be here. There were soldiers and blade eaters prowling everywhere. None of them had any sympathy for the dirt of Alrest. A boy with, to them, no past or future of any note.

They were taken to stand in front of the Praetor. No one was saying anything, but the Gormotti boy standing next to him was sniffling quietly. After shooting a quick glance at the guards, Mikhail brushed the boy's arm with his hand. The boy looked over, and Mik froze. He couldn't say a word or offer any comforting smile. He touched the boy's arm again, and the crying slowed. Mikhail felt like he was just about ready to curl up and die.

They went up, one by one, in front of the Praetor who had been the Quaestor last time Mik saw him. He made each one lie flat on the ground, and then he waved his arms and raised them up. Mikhail could scarcely believe what he was seeing, and it was so unbelievable that he couldn't help but wish that this was all a bad nightmare and soon enough Haze would wake him up.

But he knew that wasn't the case. This was...this was horrendously, vividly real. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the Praetor raised a core crystal high above the floating body and then it- there was blood all over the floor. The man lying there screamed out in pain. He didn't stop screaming. The blood just kept coming. It flooded the floor. It smelled. Mikhail couldn't stop staring at the now lifeless body in the air. He didn't remember hearing the man stop screaming but he was deathly silent now.

The Praetor sighed, let the body fall to the ground, and called the soldiers forward. They carried the body out through another door. The blood remained, and a blue, glowing core crystal clattered to the ground. The Praetor pointed to another person in their group. A woman, this time. She stood on the spot, frozen. "Please step forwards and lie on the ground," he said. "We don't have all day." The woman said nothing and stepped forwards as asked. The Gormotti boy grasped Mik's hand for a moment.

The same thing happened to this woman and the Gormotti boy gripped harder, his tears returning. Mikhail didn't know what to do. He was vaguely aware that, by the looks of it, he was going to die here. That was probably better than becoming one of those...creatures. He didn't really mind dying, come to think of it. Anything would be better than living in the same world as someone like the Praetor.

The Praetor called the Gormotti boy up next. The boy flinched. He grabbed Mik's hand tighter. Mik didn't know what to do. He wanted to- he wanted to protect the boy in the same way that he'd been protected but that would be throwing away the chance he'd been given at life but if he didn't then he wouldn't be being brave like he'd been told to and-

The boy dropped his hand, tears rolling down his face. He didn't say a word, just doing what he was told. Mikhail watched on, horrified, as the core crystal, now spattered with blood, sank into the boy's chest. He convulsed once, twice, and then he started shaking. The Praetor sighed and lowered him to the ground, where the boy knelt in a pool of blood, shaking. He was shaking so much but he didn't say a word.

"Another beast," he said, turning to the soldiers, who picked the boy up and carried him out a different way. Another beast. Another- he was. He was going to become one of those things. That scared boy. That boy who'd just wanted some comfort and Mikhail hadn't been able to save him.

Unthinkingly, he stepped forward, trying to follow, to do something, anything, he didn't know what. The Praetor turned to look at him. "A volunteer, I see. Very well."

Mikhail wanted to spit in his face. He wanted to scream. What had he done to deserve all this? There was no omnibenevolent Architect making sure that everything would be okay. This was anything but. This was murdering scared children. And now he was faced with it he really, really didn't want to die.

"I'm sure you know what you're meant to be doing," the Praetor said.

"No," he said immediately. He would not lie down on a floor soaked with blood. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't bear it. He was struggling to breathe because every breath smelled like death and death could only remind him of- of everything.

The Praetor only scoffed. "Stubborn child," he said, and Mikhail moved his gaze to meet the man's eyes. He didn't expect Amalthus to remember him; the little boy who sat slightly apart from the conference table in the Tornan palace. He didn't think he wanted the man to remember him, either.

Within moments, he felt his feet swept out from under him and he was up in the air. The air left his lungs and he bit his lip in an effort not to cry out. He would not give this man the satisfaction of knowing he was scared. Because he was terrified. He was going to die here, or live through something far worse than death. And he couldn't do anything about it. No one was coming to save him. No one cared enough to bother about an orphan from Estham. 

Before he knew it, a core crystal was dangling above him. This was it. He hoped that losing all the blood in his body would be over quickly. He could only wish for that, at this point. He clung to that hope and the memory of sitting by a campfire with the only people who had ever cared for him and closed his eyes so he didn't have to watch his doom get closer. Maybe he'd be with Milton soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really hoping to continue writing for this incredible game for as long as I can - any feedback I get really helps with motivation to continue and just in general actually writing stuff that's any good!


End file.
